His Queen
by ZeroHibiscus
Summary: He would never forget the promise the had made in one of her past lives. Her soul desires to be with him. But it can't happen, not yet because something keeps killing her everytime she's in his arms. Whatever it is, it must be destroyed, for she was his queen. (Not particulary good at summaries.)


A/N: This a story I had written with a friend last year and finally remembered to upload. There are probably mistakes in there, if you do spot them, please do tell me.

Sebastian may look a bit OoC in this…but, well, there miiight be a tiny little reason behind it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroshituji/Black Butler or any of it's characters. If I did own it though, the new season would be out now.

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Prologue

_At the begging, London, England, September 1874._

Around midnight, her eyes finally got a shape. The eyes were feline, decisive and yet hesitant…uncertain. Yes, these eyes were right. They reached up to her light, thin eyebrows, a few inches from the cataract of her dark hair.

He lifted the paper to see his progress. It was hard for him, to work like that, without having her in front of him, but from the other side, he couldn't draw when he was near her. From the time he had come to London or maybe no…from the first time he had seen her, he knew that he should keep his distances.

Now, every day was closer to him and everyday was harder and harder from the other. And that was the reason that, that morning he would leave…To India, to America, he didn't know and didn't care. Whenever he would get to, he didn't care. Whenever he got to, it would be easier than being here.

He looked at his drawing, sighing as he completed with his thump her beautiful lips. That cold and emotionless paper would be his only way to get her with him.

That moment, though, as he let his back lean into his seat into the library, he felt it. That hot aura on his neck.

_It was her. _

If she was being very close to him, she always giving him the strangest feeling like a wave of hot air that shows up when a wood turns into ash. He knew it, without turning: She was there. He hid her drawing with the papers he had, but she could not miss it.

His eyes fell on the couch to the other side. It had only been a few hours since she had sat there, with her beautiful blue dress on her, clapping for her guest's daughter for playing with her violin. He knew she loved violin. She wanted to learn on her own but never had time for it so she preferred sneaking inside of his room when he played and listen to his melody. He looked at the other side of the room, at the balcony, where she had surprised him, holding red roses in her small hands. She still believed-that the feelings she held for him, were…_innocent._ That their meetings at the park where simply… a beautiful coincidence. How arrogant she was! Though he would never tell her the truth- the secret was his and alone he would suffer with it.

He stood up and turned to face her, leaving his sketches behind him, on the leather chair. She was truly there, standing by the curtain of the room, sparing small glances outside out of nervousness. Her black hair was no longer tied in a braid and instead flew around her like a cloud. Her expression was the same as the one he sketched several times; the heat got wilder. Was she frustrated? Perhaps, embarrassed? It was so hard to read her sometimes. He had the desire to question her but he wouldn't allow himself to do so.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, a bit too harshly but he knew she wouldn't even notice, instead her fingers played with the sleeve of her black dress as she bit her lip nervously.

"I-I couldn't sleep." She admitted, lowering her head so her hair could cover her flustered face. "I…saw the light in your room a-and the box…Are you going somewhere?"

"I would tell you-"He started but instantly regretted it. No, he couldn't lie to her. If he did; things would get even more complicated.

"Were you drawing me?" She let out a gasp of surprise, which reminded him the space of communication they had. Even after the long time he spend with her these past weeks, she hadn't taken notice of their pull. It was better though. The past days, after he had taken the decision to leave, he was struggling to stay away from her. It was successful enough. But the gap of her absence was there and he would cover it by drawing her beautiful face.

He took a glance at the sketch he made earlier, not out of embarrassment because she saw him draw her but because of a strange, awful feeling in his gut. She couldn't discover it, no; she couldn't have knowledge of his feelings for her. He had to be careful, because that's how everything started at first.

"Earl Grey tea…" He murmured with his back still turned to her. "It shall help you sleep." He hated the tone of his voice.

"How would you guess? It's what my mother used to give me." She asked him, surprise evident in her voice.

"I know…" He whispered.

Then…silence fell.

But then, her warm hand touched his cold shoulder and he would gasp at the sudden contact if he hadn't been able to control himself. It was always like that when she first touched him. It was warm and surprisingly calming… And he craved but couldn't have it. It wasn't time yet.

"Are you leaving?" She asked him, her tone changing quickly.

"Yes…" He admitted.

Her words hit him then.

"Then, please, do take me with you!" The moment she said it, she regretted it. Her expression turned into one of embarrassment and she backed away, rubbing her hands nervously once more.

"No…I can't do that." He told her. "If you care the least about me, then please do not say another word."

"_If_ I care about you…" She spoke thoughtfully and seemed to be in a mental battle with herself as her brows furrowed. She took a deep breath then. "But…I…"

"Don't!" He almost pleaded her.

"I..have to tell you! I…love you. I'm almost sure and if you leave-"

"If I leave I will save both of our lives." He talked to her slowly, trying to wake any feeling that could be hidden deep inside of her. He still hoped for that. But it was impossible, was is it not? "Some things are more important than love. You can't understand yet, but you will..someday. Just trust me."

"Do you mean that there are more important things than this!?" She cried out and grabbed his hands, making him face her before placing them over her still beating heart.

If she only knew what he was. If she only knew what would happen to her if they continued. If she only knew what was casted upon her.

If she only knew…

Still, he could feel the familiar warmth of her hands over his. He could still remember how her lips felt against him.

"I…have the most strangest feeling."

No…! Was it too late now?

"Call me a lunatic, but I feel like we've been here before. "

It truly was too late. She was already gone and he couldn't do anything about it. Anything but comfort her in their last moment together.

He embraced her and held her tightly against him, feeling her warmth one more time before he had to let go. His delicate, pale fingers traveled underneath her chin and pulled her flushed face closer to his, closing the small gap between them.

His brown eyes flashed crimson and stared down at her as her own blue ones widened. He leaned next to her and whispered what she needed to know the most, what was the thing she had grown to love again and again and again.

"_I'm a demon…"_

He couldn't miss the shock her eyes reflected before she fell cold and unconscious in his arms.

And it was over once more…

He had to find a way, a way for her to live, to do the things she wanted, for her to able to see anything and everything.

Until then, until they could be together again, he would watch her from afar.

It was his duty towards her.

_His queen. _


End file.
